


All He Need’s Instruction, All I Want’s Temptation

by soullessbrothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comedy, First Time, M/M, Spit As Lube, Spitroasting, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullessbrothers/pseuds/soullessbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has a sexual problem, and asks Dean to fix it, but it’s Sam that takes the lead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All He Need’s Instruction, All I Want’s Temptation

The truth is, it was too easy. Sam had recovered and Dean couldn’t bear him out of his sight. In motels, he could stay awake most of the night and watch the rise and fall of Sam’s chest, but in the bunker, they had their own rooms. Each space was uniform, from the desk to the chair and back to the single bed. When Sam had been discharged from hospital, right again, Dean had ignored his brother’s protests and dragged the shrieking metal of a second bed into Sam’s room. It cramped the space, swallowed it up, but as soon as those frames and mattresses joined, he felt like he could breathe.

It was like being children again. Dean’s mouth pressed into a hard line. Sammy had curled up into his chest and this Sam copied him. This Sam, however, was full of limbs. His arms and legs drowned Dean. His knees bent into points that pinned Dean in place between them, even as the embrace began side-by-side. Sam was at an unnatural angle. His nose was pressed into Dean’s chest, so he was almost jack-knifed into a pointed C. When Dean tried to curl arms around him, he simply couldn’t reach. Instead, his hands had to hold the back of Sam’s head, fingers threaded through his hair. Dean sighed.

When he was prepared to sleep, the door handle creaked. He frowned. Kevin never bothered them after six, and Cas, well, Cas had been back a week and kept to himself. Aside from their conversation about Metatron, Cas had snapped himself shut and taken to the grey, soulless room that Dean had directed him to. Dean knew why. He’d seen that guilt in the mirror.

As soon as dim light lined the floor, Dean froze. He couldn’t climb out of Sam’s sleeping arms, not like he had when John came home, not when he had grown so much. He was stuck there. And Cas, Cas stood there and could see the open shine of Dean’s eyes, could see that he was awake, could see a hold not meant for brothers.

“Dean,” he murmured.

Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah?”

The silence was heavy. He could see Cas’ grip on the door, like it grounded him, stopped him from running. “I… have a problem.”

“You and me both.”

Cas ignored Dean’s forced laugh. “It’s… it’s physical, Dean.”

“What, man? I’m trying to sleep here.”

“You’re already awake.” He walked forward, each step slightly off. “My body is… unruly.”

Dean groaned. “How about you try going to sleep, Cas? I need my five hours.”

“It’s urgent, Dean.”

He knew that he wouldn’t get any peace. It helped to think that if he sorted whatever problem Cas had, it would deflect from the awkward position that Cas found him in. It took more strength than Dean cared to admit to shove Sam’s octopus limbs away until he was on his back. Dean sat up. He winced at the complained moan from Sam’s throat.

“Dean.”

Cas’ tone was enough to jolt Sam. From his lying position, he stretched, then rubbed his eyes. “Uh, Dean? What time’s it?”

“No time, Sam. Cas was just leaving.”

“Wait, Cas?” Sam followed Dean’s sitting position and woke enough to keep a space between them. “Uh, what’s up?”

Cas glanced between them. “This is a… personal matter. I need to speak to Dean.”

Sam and Dean shared a look before Sam rolled his eyes and stood up. “Right, okay, I guess?”

He paused, but Cas waited in silence until he left. Cas glanced a quiet apology and waited for the door to close behind Sam before he turned back to Dean. “Dean, I…”

“Look, man, this better be important or I’m kicking your ass.”

Cas didn’t have the words. All he could do was glance down. Dean prompted him with a look of _I swear to God, you better have a good goddamned excuse for this_ , and Cas finally opened his mouth. “It’s masturbation, Dean.”

“Wow.”

“I know, I—”

“No, man, _wow_. Does this look like a twelve-year-old-girl’s slumber party? You want to sit and talk about feelings and how that cute guy from _Star Trek_ makes you want to stick your hand up your skirt?”

“Dean.”

“No, please. This isn’t weird or uncomfortable _at all_.”

Cas tensed. “I need your help, Dean.”

“You know what, no. Not today. Sam! Sammy!”

It wasn’t long before Sam came back down the corridor, almost like he hadn’t been listening at the door. He opened it and cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”

Dean waved his hands. “Nothing, man. Cas here wants to talk about jacking off, and hell, I thought, who’s the biggest jerk-off I know?”

“Very funny, Dean.” Sam paused. “But, uh, Cas? Are you serious? You’ve never… you know?”

Cas clenched his jaw. “I never had any need.”

Dean laughed. “Oh, man. Repressed to hooker in sixty seconds. That’s gold.”

“Dean!” Sam glared, then softened as he put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Hey, listen. We’re, we’re friends, right? So… whatever you need.”

“You gonna lend a helping hand?”

“Knock it off, Dean. He’s serious.”

Dean raised his hands in mock-surrender and let Cas talk. “I need… instruction.”

“Uh, right. Sure.” Sam quickly wiped the frown from his face. “I mean, yeah, sure. We’ll help, right, Dean?”

Dean sighed. “Sure.”

Sam cleared his throat. “So, uh, we should get undressed and lie on the bed.”

Dean pulled a face. “What is this, bad porn?”

“And _then_ Dean and I can show you what to do. And you can copy us. _Right_ , Dean?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s just set up a couple of cameras, get the lights down low, make sure we get the right angle…”

Sam shot another warning glare. “How does that sound, Cas?”

“It sounds… acceptable.”

They fell into an awkward silence. They stared at each other. After a minute or so passed before Sam hesitated and stripped. Cas followed. Dean opened his mouth to make another quip, but he decided that this was weird and awkward enough without that. The other two watched him expectantly and he muttered a _fine, I’m doing it, jeez_ before he followed suit.

“If Cas lies in the middle, he can see us both, right, Dean?”

That didn’t deserve an answer. Dean slumped back onto his side of the bed, near the edge. Sam gave Cas an encouraging smile and lay on the opposite side. It was lucky that the Men of Letters’ beds were so sturdy beside each other, as Cas was forced to crawl up the middle of the bed. He had to twist around and found it difficult to get onto his back.

Maybe Dean was wrong about the beds being singles. That, or Sam was even bigger than he thought, because as they all lay with their backs to the headboard on top of the covers, they were tight, shoulder to shoulder. It was only in that position that Dean noticed how hard Cas was.

“Dude, did you come in here like that?”

Cas drew in his shoulders. “I told you that I needed instruction, Dean.”

Sam winced. “No, hey, it’s fine. I mean, listen. This is easier for you, right? It’s half the battle.”

Dean snorted, and only stopped when he looked over to find Sam grasp himself. He widened his eyes. Sam fisted himself quickly, and Dean couldn’t believe that he stole glances of his limp cock to bring himself to attention.

“Uh, Dean? You’re kind of falling behind, here.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, it wasn’t easy. Dean tried flashes of his old conquests, of his magazines, of, damnit, the last time that he had let Sam fuck him, right before Stanford, but nothing would—oh, right, there it is. He felt himself rise in his palm and it shivered up to warm his stomach. He had to stop himself from taking it too far. He hadn’t realised how quickly he had been stroking his shaft, but before he knew it, pre-come slicked his hand and his balls were tight.

“Dean,” Cas breathed.

“So, uh, yeah. You really want to get your hands around there, Cas.”

Sam let go of himself and took Cas’ wrist. His fingers bent up to guide Cas’ hand until he manipulated it around his cock. Dean didn’t realise that he held his breath as Sam started gentle movements. Cas melted backwards and Sam let go, smiled when he saw Cas’ jaw slip slack as he took off the training wheels and pumped his hand by himself.

“Dean,” and this time Cas’ breath was heavier.

Dean swallowed. “Yeah?”

“He’s just a beginner, Dean.”

“And?”

“And how about we talk him through it?”

Dean shivered when he saw the first bead leak from Cas’ tip. The guttural moan that escaped made him squirm. “Talk…?”

Sam laughed. “I heard you do that kind of thing with tons of girls!”

“Yeah, well, girls aren’t Cas!”

They stopped when they saw Cas pause in hesitation.

“ _Fine_ ,” Dean scowled. “You want to, you know, take your thumb and… run it over the head. Of your dick, man. _Not that hard_!”

Cas looked relieved at that.

“And hold your balls. You can touch them, too,” Sam added.

“This is complicated!”

Before he knew what he was doing, Dean turned onto his side. His cock pressed into Cas’ side and he followed Sam’s instruction. Hand at Cas’ thigh, he drew it upwards and felt the growing heat of his sac, let his thumb roll over the skin.

Cas groaned. “This is tiring.”

“It’s worth it, man, really worth it,” and Dean’s mouth dried as he watched him, barely noticed that Sam had mirrored his position.

Sam’s hand found Cas’ stomach and he ran his palm upwards to his chest, letting his fingers thrum over a nipple before he gave it a soft pinch. Cas keened. He keened again when Dean’s hand somehow left its owner’s control and wrapped around the base of his cock. Cas let his hand fall away, and Dean’s palm took its place. Dean gave him a small squeeze, enough to make him choke, then groan louder when Dean’s thumb twirled around the small slit of his head.

“I know that look, Dean.”

“What?”

“He can’t come yet. I mean, you know.”

It was like the world had disappeared around them. Cas glanced at Sam, almost drugged, but his head lolled back to Dean as he arched his hips up, mouth aching for him. And Dean, manly man, lover of the ladies, hard and strong, caught his mouth. His hand paused. Cas didn’t.

When their lips touched, it was soft, but soon it bruised, it quickly roughed until they caught themselves up in teeth and tongue, a tickle because Cas managed to lick the roof of Dean’s mouth at a bad angle, and Cas cried out as Sam pinched him again, the other nipple this time, and it took so much energy for Dean not to keep fisting his cock because oh, if Cas made noises like that, then god, he needed to hear him come.

“Uh, guys?”

Dean snapped back and paled. Sam’s eyebrow was high and a knot tightened in Dean’s stomach. He’d almost forgotten him. He couldn’t do that. And still, Cas reached to run fingers down Dean’s chest, so Dean sat further up to cup Sam’s cheek and murmur, _Sammy, I’m sorry, Sammy_ , and then Stanford snapped into his head and his jaw clenched, but Sam only frowned, smiled, and took the taste of Cas right out of Dean’s mouth.

Cas was left lost as Sam and Dean leaned over him and kissed. They moaned in the echoes of noises they had made years ago, of noises they hadn’t ever talked about, and that was when they spoke in silence, one of each of their hands on Cas, the other finding each other, mapping out the new muscle tone and need that they hadn’t felt since they were teenagers.

When they broke apart, they panted, paused, and looked back at Cas. He was spellbound.

“Dean,” Sam murmured, “I think… I think Cas needs your mouth.”

Dean hesitated. He glanced at Cas’ mouth, the mouth he had watched for far too long, then downwards. At the second, Sam smiled. Sam leaned over further so he could hold the nape of Dean’s neck, and gently encouraged him with a soft push. It was all that Dean needed.

Cas’ pre-come was sweeter than Sam’s ever used to be. _Probably all the goddamned fruit and honey_ , and Dean flushed at the thought. But his tongue turned automatic. That small lap changed into a curl. It flicked over Cas’ tip and Dean only stopped to press a kiss against the sensitive underside. Dean frowned when he felt the mattress move. Sam had shifted, stood up, and that wasn’t right, but his familiar hand on the small of Dean’s back reassured him.

It took a couple of pats for Dean to shift the way he instinctively knew Sam wanted. He kept his lips against Cas’ cock as he moved. He spread Cas’ legs out, the man was all liquid, and Sam helped to spread Dean out on hands and knees. Half bent down to suck Cas’ tip, his ass stuck out and Sam stood, grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled him back roughly. Dean groaned.

Cas was a quick learner. When Dean opened his mouth further at the sensation of fingers massaging his balls, Sam’s thumb stretched out to rub circles against his hole, Cas lifted his hips until more of himself slipped past Dean’s lips. He whimpered at the wet heat, and Dean whimpered too, he whimpered at the loss of that hand and then louder as Sam pressed a newly-wet finger against his opening, wet thanks to Sam’s spit and lick, dipped slightly in, rolled and straight back out, maddeningly slow and purposeful and oh, Sam had _learned_ since their young fumbles.

That first finger soon slipped in with ease. It curled, and Sam laughed softly as he added a second to shallowly rock his fingers. Cas rocked too, but rocked up. Dean’s mouth was filthy, slick with more of Cas’ pre-come. He pulled back to pant and let Cas’ cock twitch against his cheek, and felt Cas’ hand scrape through his hair. Dean didn’t know where to look, at Sam’s warm, hard purpose, or the softness of Cas’ needy blues.

Sam’s fingers retreated after they had scissored Dean open enough, and Dean heard more spit before Sam positioned himself. Hands back at his hips, Sam took his time to press his tip inside and yes, Dean was just tight enough to give the gentle burn that Dean had always craved. Sam’s fingers dug bruises into Dean’s side to hold himself off. He had to stop, or he would have come there, right there, at Dean’s automatic clench and the memory of how tight Dean had been years ago.

In that pause, Cas growled. “ _Dean_.”

Another command, and Dean took straight to it, drew Cas back in his mouth and hollowed his cheeks to suck further in. He pressed his tongue against him, and moaned to vibrate his mouth. He felt Cas’ breath hitch and shudder down to his groin. That only encouraged Dean further, made him bob his head and relax his throat to take as much in as possible.

Then, stars.

Sam grunted as he pushed more of himself inside Dean and the cry around Cas’ cock was enough to make Cas start to shake.

“Dean. _Dean_.”

“God, Dean.” Sam rocked until he filled Dean up, rocked harder to push him past his edge, harder until oh, that spot, that one spot and Dean screwed up his eyes, concentrated on keeping teeth away from Cas’ cock.

That was the moment that changed them. Cas could barely stand it and he growled in his native tongue, impossible for the other two to understand, but his fist in Dean’s hair dragged him further down. The urgency translated to Sam and he bucked, smacked the side of Dean’s ass with one palm, the other hand bent round to grasp Dean’s neglected cock and pumped in time with his rough thrusts, the thrusts that curled Dean up and tore him apart. Dean, fucked from both sides, writhed his hands in the bed, pushed back onto Sam’s cock and forward to swallow more sweet salt and hand and he was heavy, every inch of him was heavy with slick lust and he couldn’t hold it, he couldn’t bear it, and he couldn’t warn either of them about it as soon as he came into Sam’s touch and shuddered, spent, each breath ragged on Cas’ shaft and all concentration on keeping upright for the hard fucks braced over and over against his prostrate.

It didn’t take much more for Cas to spill over too. He coiled up into a spring before he growled a deep shout and came in short, sharp bursts into his mouth. He came again and again, enough time for Dean to swallow and gasp, then swallow again until Cas’ shaft softened in his mouth. Cas didn’t let go. He pushed Dean’s face further into his limpness until Dean’s nose was hard against coarse hair, and Dean was only fucked further into it by a ruthless Sam, a needy Sam, a Sam that bit his tongue and swallowed his own noises to hold off, but now, with them done, he let go of Dean’s cock and held his sides like a vice to ride his own orgasm, to fill Dean with that new reminder of himself.

As the spasms subsided, Sam pulled out and pushed his two fingers back in place to feel the warm thickness of his come still inside his brother. Dean couldn’t. He slumped down, allowed himself a few moments of weakness. With a smile, Sam managed to lie back on his part of the bed. Dean wasn’t about to show himself up, so he dragged himself up, too, back to his original position. It wasn’t long before he realised that Cas’ hand had just slipped from his hair, and when he looked across him, his cock damp from Dean’s mouth, Dean realised that he had already fallen asleep.

“Amateur,” Dean sighed. He idly ran his hands down himself to check where he had been bruised and yes, his sides, he could feel Sam’s fingerprints as if they were still firmly in place.

“He, uh, he seemed to like it.”

“I guess.”

Dean looked away when Sam wiped his mess on the bedsheet, deciding to wipe off his cock himself and stretch for tissues left beside the bed. Once done, he dropped them on the floor for later. Right now, he didn’t care about cleaning up too much.

“He… liked kissing you, too.”

“Yeah.”

The silence hovered between just-comfy and far too thick. Dean breathed deeply and he reddened again at the spiced scent of sex that clung to each of them.

Sam watched him closely, voice deliberately neutral. “You know, he loves you.”

“Sammy…”

“No, no, he does. I mean, you could see it. Right there.”

“You’re crazy.”

Sam laughed. “Calling your name? You’re not that stupid, Dean.”

“What’s your point?”

“I want you to be happy.” Sam reached over Cas’ sleeping body and found Dean’s still hand. “And, you know, we’re not kids anymore.”

Dean tensed. The knot in his stomach was back.

“You can say what you want, but I know you, Dean. I know how you feel. And that’s okay, because Cas, it’s Cas.”

“You always come first,” Dean glared. “Don’t you dare think anything else.”

“Yeah, I know. But, look, it’s _Cas_.”

“Go to sleep, Sammy.”

Sam gave a loud sigh before he lay back down properly. When he drifted away, Dean stayed awake. He swallowed and looked at them both. He wished that he could think of something to joke about, but his mind was too full. It wasn’t long before he forced himself to look away.

When he tried to sleep, all he could see was Sam. Since the look in Cas’ eyes, he already felt like he’d betrayed him. With Cas’ first kiss, he already had.


End file.
